broken mirrors
by GondorCalling
Summary: Rated M for violence, gory references and strong language at times. A snapped!Canada fic because he needs more love when Mattie goes a little off the deep end. Canada hears a voice, he always has. No one ever noticed, they never did. It whispers to him, it wants to play a game. It holds him tightly, because no one else will.
1. Chapter 1

"No nonononononnnonoNoONONonnoNONONONO!"

Matthew's fist slammed against the wall beside him and he struggled to breathe. His legs were shaking as he shook his head trying to rid it from the voice. It had always been there; trying to tempt him in the shadows, trying to make him stop caring. He was stubborn though, a trait that both he and his brother America shared. But the voice didn't want him to think about that. He was an evil man, a terrible person. He doesn't deserve to-' NO! Stop talking like that! I love Alfred! H-he's my best friend and a part of my family!' Canada told himself sternly.

Lately, it seemed, the voice had been getting stronger. Every time a nation looked right through him or forgot his name it would materialise beside him and drape its long, dark, wandering arms around his shoulders. It would whisper seductively into his ears, reassuring him that it was okay. The pain could be numbed by it soft caresses. It was only now that Matthew realized that he had unconsciously become so dependent on the voice. When did that happen? He would follow what it told him to do (sometimes willingly sometimes not so much), and then only remember what he had done later. He knew it was wrong to not tell anybody, but was there really anyone who would listen, let alone hear him?

Early that morning he had awoken to hear the voice was wailing inside his head. It wanted him to do this-no- _needed_ him to do this. It was too much though. He couldn't do what it wanted. He would fight it and hold on for as long as he could, but Canada knew, whatever his voice wanted, his voice always got. So as he was on his way to the meeting room, he had felt his world crash down around him. Red flashed before his eyes and he pleaded with his mind to just let him slip into unconsciousness, it didn't respond. Inside his head he felt the voice screeching for what it needed. Blood. Matthew was shaking all over and tears fell to the ground and smudged his glasses.

He held his head in his hands as shivers ran through his spine. He could feel the voice's arms around him and the sweet words dripping into his ears. What he never realized was that the voice was his own.

* * *

England's POV

"Fuck!" The Brit exclaimed as he slammed the door of his car. He was late for the world meeting, very late indeed.

His brow creased and a groan escaped his lips as he imagined the scathing look that Germany would give him and the taunts from America. Oh dear God which one was worse? He ran a hand through his ever messy hair and began to run. He asked one of the humans working in the main foyer how to get to the meeting room and barely had time to thank him before racing off again. If it hadn't been for the unearthly shriek, England would have ran right past the huddled figure on the ground. 'Strange place to be crying.' he thought. Then he stopped for a closer look.

England approached the young man with care, but when he realized who exactly he was dealing with, and he became immensely ticked off. "Bloody Hell America, don't scare me like that! Why on Earth did you think this would be a good prank? And why aren't you in the meeting already and..."

England trailed off as he noticed the shivers that racked through the young man's body. He frowned, either America's acting had improved by leaps and bounds or this wasn't the irritating prank he first believed it to be. Then Alfred started whispering things. They were quiet and Arthur could barely catch what he was saying. All the same though, it was enough to give him shivers of his own.

"Come on now… It'll be fun! You know you always enjoy my games in the end- NO! Stop it, this isn't funny. I never liked your games, you're just saying that." At the start his voice seemed silky and sweet like honey, but the second voice was hoarse and quiet. It seemed almost like there were two different people speaking.

"They don't remember you anyways so why not? Now they can feel the same when nobody notices if they die! - SHUTUP. NOnOnONOnonoNONo."

England was legitimately concerned now. He gently rested his hand on his son's '-no not a son anymore don't think like that' he scolded himself, his allies shoulder. Bad move on his part. The boy shot up and pressed his back into the wall like a cornered animal. His face was flushed and his eyes were wide with fear but… this wasn't America. Well, it looked like him but something told England he wasn't. The teary violet eyes were a dead giveaway. What was his name? Ca….. Jesus why couldn't he remember? Arthur tried to calm the boy from his hysteria, "C'mon now lad. I'm here, tell me what happened. Hello?" It was like the young man couldn't hear him, or he was seeing a whole other person.

"Don't touch me! Why are you always touching me? I don't want your slimy arms draping over me all the time- Canada, calm down dearie- NO shut up! You want me to kill them! I hate it when you do this!"

Canada? It didn't ring any bells in his head. Was the boy a nation? His blonde wavy hair reminded him of old frog face, maybe France knew him. Just then England was snapped out of his thoughts by a pair of hands closing around his throat. He yelped in surprise as he was pushed to the floor and struggled underneath his attacker. The teary eyed man that had been sitting in front of him seconds before had been replaced by a manic smile, and a shrill laugh. "Well it looks like I'll just have to show you how fun it can be!" He sang out in a sing-song voice.

Arthur attempted to push him off but couldn't move as he was straddled by the adolescent nation. Black spots began to dance before his eyes and England almost resigned himself to his fate when suddenly his attacker fell limply on top of him. Breathing heavily England's hands flew to his throat and he began coughing and gasping. His eyes watered and upon glancing up at the new figure that had appeared before him. He felt one of his eyebrows twitch slightly upon seeing America. Alfred didn't seem to notice him yet as he was transfixed on the piece of wood in his hands. It must have been ripped from a door frame, God knows Alfred was strong enough to do that. That wasn't the issue though.

It was the blood on the top of the wood that was bothersome. Arthur realized that the America must have hit his mysterious attacker over the head and knocked him unconscious. America looked England in the eye steadily and the Englishman was shocked to see anger directed at _him_. Why was Alfred angry at him of all people? He was the bloody victim here. "W-who is this Alfred? Do you know this man he must be a nation of course but…" He trailed off with one silencing look from the furious looking American. His "friend" spoke with an icy calm to his voice, "That's my fucking brother you bitch. What the Hell did you do to him?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two is here! Hope y'all enjoy.

_This one's for the lonely, the ones that seek and find_  
_Only to be let down time after time_  
_This one's for the torn down, the experts at the fall_  
_Come on friends get up now you're not alone at all_

_Oh, oh, oh, oh_  
_Oh, oh, oh_  
_Oh, oh, oh, oh_  
_Oh, oh, oh_

_And this part was for her and this part was for her_  
_This part was for her does, she remember?_

_It comes and goes in waves, I_

_This one's for the faithless, the ones that are surprised_  
_They are only where they are now regardless of their fight_  
_This one's for believing if only for it's sake_  
_Come on friends get up now love is to be made_

_Oh, oh, oh_  
_Oh, oh, oh_  
_Oh, oh, oh, oh_  
_Oh, oh, oh_

_And this part was for her and this part was for her_  
_This part was for her, does she remember?_

_It comes and goes in waves, I_  
_I am only let to wonder why_  
_It comes and goes in waves, I_  
_I'm only let to wonder why, why I try_

_This is for the ones who stand, for the ones who try again_  
_For the ones who need a hand, for the ones who think they can_

_It comes and goes in waves, I_  
_I am only let to wonder why?_  
_It comes and goes in waves, I_  
_I'm only let to wonder why, why I try_

_Oh, oh, oh, oh_  
_Oh, oh, oh_  
_Oh, oh, oh, oh_  
_Oh, oh, oh_

_Oh, oh, oh, oh_  
_Oh, oh, oh_  
_Oh, oh, oh, oh_  
_Oh, oh, oh_

-Greg Laswell- Comes and Goes

* * *

America had shot up at the sound of the scream. Looking around the meeting room he had all of his senses on red alert. His hand had snaked down to the gun hidden in the pocket of his leather bomber jacket. Soon, however, he began to realise that no one else had seemed to have heard the cry. America shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, he must be working too hard again.

He sat in his seat fiddling with his pen and bluntly ignoring France who was yammering away about yet another strike in his country. A sneaky thought crept into his mind and a small grin snaked across his face. Now seemed like a great time to bug someone, and of course that someone was going to be… America turned to his right and was sorely disappointed to see that ol' Iggy eyebrows was missing. That made him frown a little. England wasn't known for being perfectly punctual at time but he would never miss a meeting. Turning to his left he started to ask if Canada knew where England was. Matt usually knew what was up with England since he had decided to stay in some commonwealth something or other. Another empty chair greeted him. His brother wasn't there either. Huh.

Just as Alfred was preparing to damn himself to eternal boredom he heard it again. There was no mistake someone had just cried out for help, and if wasn't going to do something about it then what kind of a hero was he? America pushed back his seat and began walking quickly to the large doors, he was sure that the cry had come from the hallway. He heard Italy behind him, "Ve~ Hey America where are you going?" He didn't slow down to answer.

"America-san?" He ploughed forward ignoring Japan. It was Germany that stopped him. America might be dense at times but he wasn't stupid enough to ignore a direct question from the large German man.

"Where are you going America? The meeting has not ended yet."

Alfred grit his teeth and spat, "Are you telling me you couldn't hear that scream?"

China cocked his head to the side, "What scream? I never heard anything-aru."

Germany looked back at him with the same blank look in his eyes, "China is right America, there was no sound."

This was stupid how could they just pretend nothing had just happened? America had heard the noise clear as day! Obviously someone was in trouble and he wasn't going to just stand there and let these fools keep him from being the hero.

"Tsk, whatever idjits! I'm gonna be the hero while the rest of you just sit here denying that someone needs help!" And with that America spun around on his heel and marched forward pulling open the large doors and flashing a quick peace sign with his fingers before charging off down the hallway.

Germany just shook his head with a weary sigh, "Mein Gott… That child was raised in a barn, I swear…"

'Oh shit' was the first thing that went through his head when he saw the scene before him. America skidded around the corner of the long hallway to the meeting room just in time to see England being bowled over by a taller blonde man. Arthur shouted in surprise but was silenced as two thin, shaking hands were curled tightly around the brit's throat.

Now, Arthur wasn't exactly the damsel in distress that Alfred had counted on saving, but he was obviously in trouble. America frantically looked around for the first thing he could grab to fend off his fellow nation's attacker, seeing as there were no vases or decorations in the drab hall, his eyes quickly latched onto the top of the door frame near him. Quickly promising himself that he'd pay for the property damage later, America easily ripped the piece of wood from where it had been stuck. Without thinking Alfred swung the wood like it was a baseball bat and with one well-placed blow, his enemy was down…except it wasn't his enemy. The pale man lying on the floor in an unconscious state was his brother. Why had Canada been trying to strangle England? His eyes flickered down to the large eye browed man coughing up a lung (figuratively speaking) and he narrowed his eyes. What had England done to get his brother upset like this? Canada never got angry for no reason, and it had to be a good reason at that.

England looked up at him, rubbing his neck, and his eyes widened slightly as he saw the anger in his rescuers blue eyes. He spoke hoarsely, flicking his eyes towards Canada who lay in a heap and now had blood staining his blonde hair, "W-who is this Alfred? Do you know this man he must be a nation of course but…"

That was what made Alfred see red. How could England not recognise his own son? He didn't even know who he was?! That bastard! America felt something like approval fill the pit of his stomach as he thought that maybe Canada had finally decided to take matters into his own hands and make Arthur remember who he was, but strangling someone was a bit drastic… Still. America couldn't excuse this, he had already hurt his own brother now this was adding insult to injury.

"That's my fucking brother you bitch. What the Hell did you do to him?"

Canada stood on a cliff. It was very tall cliff that over looked the ocean, just below the water was a collection of jagged rocks that could easily impale you if you were to jump in. He wasn't sure how he knew but he just did.

Judging by the scenery Canada guessed he was in Newfoundland. He didn't remember how he had actually gotten there but that seemed to be happening a lot recently. He'd wake up not necessarily in a bed but sometimes in one of the more interesting and secluded places of his provinces or territories, far from his home in Ottawa, Ontario.

Why Newfoundland though? I mean this was one his more interesting regions, the people always knew how to have a good time and a lot of his favourite comedians came from the east coast, but again; why Newfoundland? Sighing tiredly Canada sat down on the edge of the cliff suddenly finding his thoughts sluggish. He also became aware that when he had sat down he wasn't in Newfoundland anymore. He was standing behind a large glass window and through it he saw his family. England was yelling at America, who was laughing, while trying to push France's arms away from where the Frenchman had embraced him. Matthew began to giggle at the typical scene, but stopped as he saw himself approach the glass. Why was he on that side too?

The other him began to write on the windows with his fingers, even though there appeared to be nothing on them. Then Canada gasped slightly. For when his double's fingers touched the glass red blood began to appear. Canada wasn't sure if it was fascinating or terrifying, but all the same, his eyes were glued to the letters that had begun to form. W…A…T…C…H…:)

Watch? Watch what? Matthew didn't know what was about to happen but a sharp headache had begun to throb against his temples and the smiling face's eyes were starting to drip like tears not making it look all that happy and instead, extremely macabre. He gulped, this might not be a happy ending.

His double flashed a dark grin to Matthew. Canada put a hand to the glass, a dark feeling beginning to form in the pit of his stomach. He knew what was about to happen, he just wished that he didn't. The other him sauntered over to his family and started speaking. Canada couldn't hear what he was saying but what he did know was that his other self was being ignored. America kept on laughing that annoying laugh of his…over…and over…and over… why? Why WhY WHY? The pain in his head had increased tenfold and he winced every now and then when a sharp stab of pain would run through his skull. His double had stopped talking now and slowly began to pull out a knife. "No!" Canada whispered, placing his hand on the glass, eyes wide. His double walked up to England and slit the nation's neck, the older country didn't seem to notice that his blood was now pouring down his chest, seeping into the fabric of his clothes staining it almost black with the heavy liquid that just kept pumping. England was still sternly lecturing America and swatting away France with one of his hands.

His double then approached France and stuck the already bloody knife into the man's chest where it stayed. Matthew's breathing had become laboured and his heart raced in his chest. The pain in his head was blinding but he was still being forced by some invisible entity to witness this bloody massacre.

England's body had finally dropped lifelessly to the ground where he lay still. It was hard to tell what he really looked like though, due to the tall grass that swayed in some non-existent breeze. France too had collapsed to the ground, but somewhere deep inside, Matthew knew he was still smiling that award winning grin that could make any woman or man swoon. Canada almost retched at the thought of England and France's beautiful, vibrant eyes, now glassy and dull.

All that was left now was America. Still laughing. Always smiling, always laughing. Canada fell to his knees and stared through the glass, pressing his hands and face up against it, bracing himself in anticipation for the final blow to his heart. His head ache had receded to a dull throb in the back of his mind and all he could think about was his brother dying. The final blow never came. Instead his double smeared some of the blood that was on his clothes across his brother's face and hands. The giggling nation didn't even feel Matthew's clone's touch. His double began to walk back towards the glass and looking Canada dead in the eye he knelt down to be on level with himself. He began to write again. I…T….WAS…N'T….YO…U.

"Of course it wasn't me, it was you!" Canada replied his voice cracking and barely a whisper.

His other self nodded, it seemed his clone could hear him. B…U….T….I'M….Y…OU…

Now this Canada couldn't deny. They were the exact same person the writing continued.

LO…O…K….AG….A….I…N…I…DIDN'T….KIL…L…THE…M…

Canada did look again. He saw America laughing, still, surrounded by two bodies and covered in blood. It struck Canada that if anyone else were to come along and see this mess they would automatically call his brother out on the crime and ship him off to some mental hospital. Canada couldn't quite understand it but he was nodding along, "Yes, I didn't kill them. It was Alfred…America killed my family." He looked up expectantly and to his surprise saw his double's hand reaching for the glass, but it didn't stop there. Much to Canada's horror, the hand made it through the glass and eventually he and his copy were face to face and Canada heard another voice echo in his mind.

_"It's not you, it was never you so don't blame yourself. They were real people and now they're dead. Simple as that. America killed your family so you have nothing left to live for it won't matter what you do next…right?"_

Matthew nodded his head thoughtlessly. Damn! Why was he agreeing with this thing?He had everything to live for!

_"Good, now wanna play a game?"_ His double cocked his head expectantly, giving him puppy dog eyes. It didn't work too well since there was blood droplets spattered all over his glasses and face.

_"It'll be fun okay? I'll make you have a dream and it'll seem just like real life, sounds good eh? You can go and kill whoever I tell you to! We will have so much fun you and I! Just remember that place is going to be fake and this is real. Everyone else is dead. You can tell the people in the game about this. Cool?_

Matthew wasn't cool with this. Not in the slightest. His palms were all sweaty and his throat was dry, yet he managed to talk. "W-when you say 'everyone else is dead'…D-do you mean-"

_"Yup~! Every single nation but us and America! Isn't that neat? China was killed by Japan and Belarus murdered Prussia for killing Russia and so on!"_

Canada felt a strange smile tug at his lips. He was the last one left? How fitting it seemed. He was so easily overlooked that they had even forgotten to kill him! He could do with letting off a little steam… "O-okay. I'll play."

Why did he say that? He didn't want to play! So why did he feel like this was okay? Canada's clone jumped with glee and embraced him. _"That's so great!" _Matthew hesitantly returned the hug but he never noticed the dark smile that had slid across his doubles face and the fact that his copy's eyes had become pitch black…

* * *

Yo, some crazy shit is going down. Please review after reading I really want to clean this up so if you see any grammar issues tell me. It seems everytime I fix some more appear.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for the long wait guys. I had a terrible ice storm and my power was out for a day. but also I ended up losing the file on my laptop so I had to start over again. _Anyways _ALLONS-Y

* * *

America sat on a wooden chair holding his head in his hands. His right leg bounced up and down making the anxiety he was feeling even more visible. England had told him what had really happened, how Matthew had clearly been extremely agitated and deeply in shock before the British man had ever approached him. They had managed to move Matthew's limp, unconscious form to one of the empty bedrooms without being seen by any staff. _"If anyone sees this scene they might blame us or try to help out, and humans never seem to know that leaving us alone is helping us greatly in itself."_ England had fumed bitterly.

What had made his brother so scared? Had it been that commie bastard Russia? No…Ivan had been in the meeting room the entire time. Suddenly remembering how invisible Canada could be at times, America paled. How long had Canada been there really? Could he have been curled up, petrified, calling for help for hours? Damn, why was it that he always managed to save everyone but his own brother?! Just then America heard a soft groan and Canada mutter his name. Alfred walked over to the bed and sat down carefully on the clean, white sheets that Matthew had begun to grip tightly. He must be having a night mare, Alfred thought to himself. Then he softly smiled as he stared at his younger brother, he looked so adorable when he was sleeping. America began to gently card his fingers through his sibling's soft, blonde hair and placed a protective arm round him. "Don't worry bro," He whispered quietly, "I've got your back."

* * *

England was irritated to say the least. He had just been brutally attacked by what's-his-face….oh right sorry Canada, the one he had dubbed "The Better Son". Obviously something had happened to the boy but until he found out what, he had taken away the title of being the better of the North American brothers. He rubbed at his bruised neck and sighed, where exactly was that frog? He was currently searching for France, no matter how useless he seemed at times he did know how to care for Canada when something was wrong. It was hard to admit that he was bested at something by France, but England just wasn't that good at dealing with Canada.

France hadn't been in the meeting room when he went in to check and he hadn't been leering outside the lady's restroom. So where else could he be? Walking down a hallway England stopped for a moment. Did he just her what he thought he did?

…

Yep, there it was again. England's hand smacked his forehead. He would know that obnoxious, narcissistic laugh anywhere, and when it was coming from behind a closed door to yet another bedroom it was really quite easy to understand what was going on. This hadn't been idea of explaining the current situation. England knocked loudly on the locked door and yelled, "FRANCIS YOU BETTER OPEN THIS BLOODY DOOR RIGHT NOW BEFORE I USE MAGIC TO DO IT FOR YOU!" What? Yelling was the only way he ever got the French man to shut up and do as he was told. From the other side of the door he heard small snippets of words being said in French and a shuffling noise. Soon enough France walked out of the room with a wry smile on his face. "Qu'est-ce que l'Angleterre? You know if you're jealous then you can just come join us! I wouldn't mind and I don't think Marie would either." He wiggled his eyebrows for affect, which just earned him a slap across the face.

"I don't need to take part in any of your disgusting business frog. In fact I don't even want to know about your fucking business!" England spat.

France smile grew even wider, "Was that pun intended l'Angleterre?"

For a moment England stood there confused but then, "CAN'T YOU KEEP YOUR BLOODY MIND ABOVE THE WAIST FOR FIVE GOD FORBIDDEN SECONDS?!"

Ugh! This man was infuriating! Why did he even come here in the first place? Francis was just getting more and more irksome by the decade. Suddenly his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Someone was calling him. Holding up a finger to silence France before the man could come up with any more clever taunts, he answered the phone. "What is it?" England snapped.

"Dude, where the Hell are you? Did you find France yet? You've been gone so long and I'm bored!" Oh. It was America. The man was over 200 yet he could still whine like a 5 year old.

_"_Also Mattie's still out cold so I have no one to talk to!" Ah yes, Matthew that was why he was here. A feeling of guilt began to slink into his head. Had he really forgotten about him already? He mentally chastised himself, "Well I found the bloody, good for nothing frog, so I'll be back in a jiffy. I'll see you soon." Snapping his cell phone shut with a sort of finality he looked back at France. He had obviously peaked the other man's interest by mentioning him in the conversation. With a weary sigh England pinched the bridge of his nose, "Francis I need your help with something, or rather someone."

"Ah, are you in love l'Angleterre? Is it avec l'Amérique? J'ai su que vous l'aimais!" England's face flushed bright red and he threw a punch, which the Frenchman easily dodged.

"Next time I won't miss." England hissed, "And for your information it's Matthew that needs help! I found him in the hallway clearly in shock and then he just attacked me! America came running along like an idiot and then knocked him out. If he hadn't come along I would have actually been killed."

Expecting some sort of flurry of French profanities or shocked apologies England became slightly confused when nothing happened. Instead France's face had become unreadable. His eyes had lost the playful shine and his smiling mouth had become a thin straight line. "Take me to see Mathieu."

"Do you know what could have happen-"

"Take me to where Mathieu is."

"…All right."

* * *

Upon waking Matthew was slightly confused. Where had the field gone? And the glass? Looking around, his doppelganger was nowhere in sight. What his eyes did fall upon though was his brother. He felt his heart begin to race. America held his head in his hands and his blonde hair hung over his forehead. Had something happened? Why was America so sad, he seemed so happy in the field laughing continuously while Canada killed- no Canada didn't kill them. It was _him. America had killed his family not him. _Matthew shivered slightly but made not a sound. Looking around he studied his surroundings. The room was plain and boring, the walls were painted a bland, off white colour and there were a few chairs and a small bedside table. It was obvious that he was lying down, but why was he lying down? Had that all been a dream? The voice… maybe the voice wasn't real either. He had dreamed all of it! Yes!

_"No. Sorry not a dream, I'm pretty sure I am alive and kicking!" _Canada's eyes darted to the seat next to America that had previously been empty. There he was; the other him. He was smiling sweetly. _"Remember what I said before? Everyone's dead (but it's not your fault) this is just a game. They ignored you, forgot about you, left you __**ALL ALONE."**_

**'**No they didn't. America's right here. He's obviously worried about something.' Matthew thought.

_"If he's so worried why hasn't he noticed you're awake yet? And sorry, again, love. I made this up. All of it. You're alone. You can kill whoever you want now, I know you want to because I've been inside that cute little noggin of yours!" _His double chuckled a little and waltzed over to his bed and hugged him. _"You are just so cute! I know how you long to be noticed, I do too! Why don't we help each other out in this game? If you let them all know about me I'll tell you how to win."_

Canada wasn't sure he wanted to play this game anymore. He also was beginning to feel like the little voice was lying to him, but if it was, what did that mean? Was he crazy? Had he finally snapped? Or was he sick? That would explain why he was in bed, and the hallucinations…and the dull ache that had settled on the back of his skull. He jolted slightly as he felt his counterpart begin to stroke his hair in an almost lovingly gesture. It would have been kind of relaxing if it weren't for the continuous words that had begun to stream from the other's mouth. For the most part he ignored it; it's what he always used to do when the voice had actually _stayed_ in his head. The last phrase caught his full attention though, _"Oh dear little boy, sweet Matthew, you're so innocent and unaware… If your brother isn't ashamed of what he did… If he isn't afraid to tell you they're dead… Then why won't he show you his face?"_

"Alfred?" Canada finally gasped aloud. It couldn't be true…nononono he-he was wrong…. He just needed Alfred to wake the fuck up and he could see the truth. "ALFRED." He repeated his brother's name louder this time, causing the American to jump awake loudly.

* * *

America jolted awake at the sound of his human name being called. Looking up he saw his brother awake on the bed he and England had laid him on. His brother seemed slightly pale and a wold look of fear was still bright in his violet eyes. "H-hey Mattie!" He said with a yawn, "You're finally awake huh?" America didn't even notice the aforementioned fear begin to grow in Canada's eyes. Alfred stood up and started to walk over to the bed and sit next to his brother. "Hey Matt, what happened back there? You know, you gave England quite the shock." … no response… "Matthew?"

"You can't have…" What? America cocked his head to the side slightly.

"Hey Matthew…what's wrong? What can't I have done?" He wasn't doing anything wrong was he?

"You can't have done it…. So wait… It's not a lie? No, I told you darling, not a lie. It was him. He killed them. But he looks like me! Every time I see it… the blood… It should have been me! I killed him!" America's eyes were wide. What was happening? His brother was acting like some dude in one of his movies that should be locked up in some mental hospital. Had whatever happened to him affected him this badly? No, it couldn't have made his little bro snap. He was too awesome to do that to America. Alfred shakily put up a hand but had it quickly swatted away by his sibling.

* * *

Canada was scared, very scared. When his brother looked up his face was full of laughter; contorted into a sickeningly sweet grin. The blood was spattered across the happy features was terrifying. When he was approached he became tense. The blood covering his brother began to drip on the clean white sheets. 'Don't touch me! Don't touch me!' He thought swatting away the gory hand America had begun to move towards him. _"He's gonna kill you! You're gonna die now!" _His double sang in an operatic voice. _"What'cha gonna do now love? He wants to kill you too! Are you gonna kill or be killed? Hunt or be hunted?" _

"I-I don't know! Please stop, please help me!" Matthew whimpered. His double sighed,

_"Well I guess I have no other choice, you big lug."_

* * *

England walked briskly behind France, who marched forward with his jaw set. The Frenchman refused to tell him what was happening so Arthur was forced to just guide him to the room. When they came to the door to the room it was quiet. 'Canada must still be asleep…' England thought. Alfred would never have kept quiet if his brother was awake. His curious nature would get the best of him.

England noticed that France's hands shook slightly as he reached for the doorknob. It turned slowly and with a click the wooden door opened. It creaked. Immediately England saw France pale significantly and his blue eyes opened wide. "What? What is it? Open the bloody door fully Francis and let me see what happened!" Already dreading what he was about to see England braced himself.

When France just continued to stare through the gap England pushed him out of the way and barged into the room. He stopped and blanched. The lamp that had stood on the bed stand was smashed on the ground and blood smeared the walls. On the ground though-oh dear lord the ground. Shards of the broken lamp were stuck in the man's chest and the once white carpet was now dark with blood. Helpless, glazed eyes stared up at him, they could only belong to one man. The mangled body was ravaged and the skin ripped to shreds. The body's face was unrecognizable. It was like someone was ashamed to see the corpse's face. England barely noticed the tears fall from his eyes. Canada might have disappeared from the room, but it was doubtful that America would be coming back anytime soon.


End file.
